Dodgeball

I spent two and half hours playing Dodgeball today.

I am working on a new piece about it, it could be my PAPER LION!

But I will give you some info. When I first arrived I met a woman named Claire. Claire is a very attractive, a delicate flower of a redhead. She is very friendly, one of the warmest receptions I have gotten from a sober woman in Los Angeles.

During one of the many games (at times reaching to 20 vs. 20 in number) it became apparent these folks play a lot together and some friendly hazing of the new guy was in order.

I wasn't paying attention as I was still learning, I haven't played Dodgeball in 20 years.

And I look down and hear the hollow thud that all men dread; the thud of a red dodgeball landing square in your nuts.

I haven't had a square, literal, hard hit in the nuts (figurative one's show up regularly) in
years. Good GOD man it hurt. Short breath, blood rushing, church bells through a hangover blast.

Truly, I wanted to roll over and cry like a sissy.

I kepy my composure. And there was Claire... grinning from ear to ear and pointing at me.

"Hey 'new guy,' you're out."

Out I was.

Once the pain subsided, I etched her pretty, pretty face in my brain.

I have a new nemesis. Her name is Claire.

And when I have completed my training in the Dodgeball arts... she is going down.